


Space Oddity

by Morrie_Wilde



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Bit of angst and all, Comedy, Its called Space Oddity...see what i did there eh eh eh, Life on mars inspired, M/M, Modern Era, Multi, Slow Burn, Some slightly gruesome details, you know me, you know my writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrie_Wilde/pseuds/Morrie_Wilde
Summary: -Life on Mars (TV show) inspired-It's 2008. DCI Merlin works in Glastonbury, where a hostage situation is taking place at the nearby museum. One lost bullet, and Merlin wakes up in Camelot."My name is Merlin Emrys. I was shot, and I woke in King Arthur's time. Am I mad, in a coma or back in time? Whatever's happened, it's like I've landed on a different planet. Now, maybe if i can work out the reason, I can get home."
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, a life on mars adaptation, Merlin style! Hope you enjoy this first chapter !

**Space Oddity**

Glastonbury was nothing like London. Sure, it had its crimes, the usual stabbing and lover feuds, the drunkard who had one too many, shouting loud enough to spit out a lung, his cock hanging out. These were just regular occurrences DCI Emrys had to deal with in his line of duty. Unfortunately, the town would wake up to a murder once in a while, but which town does not. 

However, in the last years, the violence had only become more gruesome, more raw. The first gun felony registered in the county in the last twenty years had happened not only six months ago. Kids were dying in the streets, deadly dosages found in their blood. Mothers were crying more often, fathers were living the household, brothers were testifying against their own family, sisters were putting on the red light. Just a macabre evolution of society, statistic showing the same results all around the country. 

It was 2008, violence seemed to be the answer once again. Although, had it ever stopped to be?

DCI Emrys walked into the station, his backpack lazily hanging on one shoulder, but his steps rushed.

“We got a call. Ongoing robbery at the Abbey Museum. I want all the teams deployed. Preliminary tells us there is one armed man, holding at gunpoint at least six hostages, including one kid. Everybody on the move! Now!” 

The station moved like one man at Merlin’s words, yet he stayed like frozen in time. A police officer approached him, her hair messily tied in a bun. 

“It will be alright. Come on let’s go.”

“I just... there’s a kid Mary. How can one point a gun at a child?” He ruffled his hair and let out a deep sigh. Rule number one : Do not let your emotions overcome you. “Alright, let’s go.” 

He jumped in the back of one of the car, keeping radio contact with the first two officers on the scene. 

“8-7-0 for Alpha. One gunshot has been fired. We don’t know if there’s any victims yet.” 

Merlin tighten his grip on the radio. 

“Alpha for 8-7-0. Any demands?” 

“8-7-0 for Alpha. The man is looking for the Holy Grail.” 

Merlin turned to the officer sitting by his side, sharing a disbelieved look of incomprehension. 

“Alpha for 8-7-0, any more information?” 

“8-7-0 for Alpha. No sir.” 

The car pulled up in the middle of the one way street, the DCI exiting the vehicle whilst it was still running. He made his way through the crowd up to the tape. 

“Constable Henry, disperse the crowd. The man he's armed and not afraid to fire.” 

Almost on cue, the culprit walked out of the building, his arm wrapped around the neck of the child. Merlin swallowed dryly and rubbed his eyes. In front of him was standing a small scared six years old kid, his mop of black hair roughed up, his piercing bright blue eyes meeting his, overflowed with tears. In front of him was Tomas, his nephew. 

“Help me! Merlin! Please!” The man tighten up his grip around Tomas’ neck. 

“You! Shut up!” The gun was was now painfully digging into the child’s neck, forcing him to throw his head backward, grimacing in pain. “Open the archives and the kid stays alive!” 

The head of the rescue force stepped forward, only to be stopped mid-step by Merlin’s hand. 

“What is so precious in the archives for you to be ready to kill Tomas?” His voice was loud and strong but his hands were shaking and his palms were sweating. His heart was beating so fast he believe he could die of a heart attack on the spot. This was the first time he would truly admit he had ever been terrified on his job. 

“The Holy Grail. Any life is worthless compared to its power : Immortality. Open the archives.” The man, dressed in a worn out jean jacket and black cargo pants, spoke in a low and threatening voice. His long dirty hair were tangled and his stubble only made his pale face look even more like death.

“What makes you believe the Grail is within these walls?” Merlin glanced furtively at the building where his team could be seen rushing to the back. He only had to buy time, enough time for them to infiltrate the back, release the hostages and tackle this clearly deranged man. 

“Because your people stole it from us!” He was boiling with rage, his hand shaking against Tomas’ neck, shouting out his spite through greeted teeth. “It belongs to us! We shall have it back and the Old Religion shall rise again! Hand. Me. The. Cup.” 

Merlin held his hands in front of him, showing his unarmed state. “Put the gun down, and we can arrange a meeting with the museum to hand over the cup to you alright? Put the gun down, let the kid go, and the cup is yours.” 

“Oh no. No, no, no. That’s too easy! I don’t believe you. You liar. Don’t you lie to me! This cup is mine!” 

“I promise you. Put the gun down, and the cup is all yours.” From the corner of his eyes, Merlin could see his men disappearing in the building and he mentally let out a sigh of relief. In the blink of an eye, the man was tackled down, Tomas falling next to him. Letting out a groan of pain and surprise, the man locked eyes with DCI Emrys. “Liar!”. 

Before one of the officer could restrain him, a bullet was fired. Merlin dropped to the floor, his dark hair slowly being tainted with blood, his chest letting out one last breath, his eyes stuck on Tomas crying and shouting. Faintly, he could hear people rushing towards him. The ambulance staff nearby rolled him on his back. 

“Bullet wound above the right brow. No exit wound. Massive blood loss. Low BP. Get him on the stretcher. On the count of three. One. Two.” 

* * *

  
Merlin woke up groggy, his whole body aching. As he opened his eyes, he moaned in pain at the piercing day light. His muscles were sore from the hard mattress and his skin was on fire from the rough material of the blanket. Rolling on his side, he threw his feet on the floor, only to feel a freezing burning sensation underneath them. The stones were iced cold and the walls were humid, water pearling near the window, window which was small and rustic, for lack of a better word. 

Feeling like he could not breath, he instinctively brought his hand to his neck, snatching off a red scarf, as rough as the throw on his bed. The piece of fabric landed on a trunk in the corner of the room, and his eyes trailed off to the other side, where a heavy wooden cabinet was proudly standing, swallowing some of the natural light coming through the ajar door. 

Panic quickly struck him, padding his trousers and looking for his jacket frantically. His mobile phone was nowhere to be found. His watch was gone, his house keys, his police ID, everything had been taken away from him. He just had to run away. Whoever had put him in this gloomy room, this cell like squared box, had left the door open so, desperate, he almost thrown himself out, landing in a barely bigger room, filled with herbs hanging from the ceiling, a wonky wooden bench and tiny bottles everywhere. A table was not far, a pile of heavy old books dangerously leaning resting on it. It smelled like humidity, freshly cut grass and ashes. Outside the door, he could hear people walking heavily and chatter. 

The large door opened, and an old man walked in, holding a weirdly shaped satchel bag. As soon as this strange hermit laid eyes on Merlin however, his face morphed into a warm smile, and his body relaxed, almost out of relief. 

“Ah my boy, you’re finally awake!” 

At the sound of his voice, Merlin held his hands on his temple, startled by a sudden sharp pain. The old man moved quickly to his side, helping Merlin down on the bench. 

“Take it slow. A horse hoof to the head is no small injury. Here, drink this, it should relieve your pain.” Merlin could see a small bottle moving before his eyes, and he mindlessly grabbed it. He took off the cap, producing a ‘pop’ way too loud for his own liking. The smell coming from it almost turned his stomach. He kept his eyes closed due to his migraine, almost certain he was concussed. Instinctively, he brought his fingers to his forehead, landing on a fresh wound, blood still runny.

“What...” His voice came out almost broken, and he tried to push down a row of coughs. The stench was almost burning his eyes. The stench of everything for the matter. 

“Fermented rosemary and burnt lavender oil. Now off with it!” 

Merlin blamed his fogged mind and the commending voice of the old man for drinking that mixture, offered to him by a dodgy stranger in what looked like a gloomy dungeon. 

“Now you must be Merlin, Hunith’s son! I was getting worried, her letter said you were meant to arrive two days ago. Although I’m glad one of the guard found you unconscious in that forest, I don’t think you would have survived much longer without care.” 

“What?” 

“You should get some rest my boy. The king requires our presence in the lower town by dusk. A villager has develop some really strange symptoms overnight. That is, if you still want to become my apprentice.” The old man was looking through his stock, placing different items in his bag, humming to himself time to time, seemingly satisfied with what he was holding. “Let’s just hope sorcery is not at play’, he added under his breath.

“What...?” 

“Nothing. Get some rest. I’ll check back on you in a few candle marks.” 

Granted, his headache was doing better, although nothing made sense. But before he could aligned more than one word, the old man had dragged him back to bed, leaving a jug of fresh water on the floor nearby. The door closed as the man disappeared, and Merlin stood there, sat on the edge of the straw filled mattress shaped bag, his fingers lingering on his trousers which clearly not belong to him. He had never seen this leather bracelet ever before either. Tentatively, he finally walked to the small opening in the wall. Before his eyes appeared a yard, horses and carriages strolling along, two women with neatly platted hair carrying a basket on their hip. A castle. Not a dungeon. This was were he was. Almost right under his window was a crowd, and a stage made of wood, on which a boy in his teenage years was being escorted to the sounds of drums

From a place he could not see, a voice erupted, loud, strong and emotionless.

“Let this serve as a lesson to all. This man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. And, pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass.” 

Merlin held his breath as a muffled noise, soon covered by the crowd’s gasp, echoed in the yard. Blood was now rushing down the made up stage, Mr Collins head rolling down a few inches before coming to a stop, his face forever stuck in time, mouth wide open, tongue hanging, eyes empty.

“When I came to this land, this kingdom was mired in chaos, but with the people’s help magic was driven from the realm. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot freed from the evil of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin.” 

‘What?” Merlin looked up again, as a murder of crow fled away from a nearby field. His knuckles were white from gripping the window frame. Shaken, he looked back down, his eyes meeting the ones of an old woman. 

“There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic! It is you! With your hatred and your ignorance! You took my son! And I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son.” 

“Seize her!”

The crowd divided as a group of people ran towards the woman. Merlin heard her murmur something, almost gibberish, before vanishing completely. He stared at where she stood for what felt like an eternity, Mr Collins’ body being dragged away, his head discarded in a bucket. People were now dismantling the make shift stage plank by blank as a woman with beautiful brown hair and dark skin threw some water where the blood had stained the pavement. An other woman stood by her, brushing the stone vigorously. In the back, near some horses, the old man stood, grave, his hand ceremoniously locked behind his back, seemingly to pay his respect to the young victim.

“What is going on?” 


	2. Chapter 2

When Merlin woke up again, his headache was back, if not worse. The room was pitch dark and everything was eerily silent. Just one movement, and he realised he was still on this same hard mattress, covered by the roughest wool he had ever encountered. 

“ _Merlin_.”

The DCI stood up abruptly, trying to find the door within the darkness. 

“ _Merlin_.”

He stumbled down in the old man’s main room, candles lighting up the space, the hanging herbs projecting nightmarish shadows on the walls. The flickering flames made him close his eyes, shutting them so hard it hurt. 

“ _Merlin_!”

He covered up his ears, the voice echoing in his mind on and on again. 

“This is not real. Nothing of this is real.” He kept chanting to himself, tears unable to run free. With shaky hands, he rubbed his face and took a deep exhale, his chest trembling as the air escaped his lungs. He threw himself on the big entrance door, only to see more stones, candles hanging from the walls, unknown faces moving along the corridors.

_“Can you hear me?”_

He ran, each step pounding his head like a drum. He ran, in this stone made labyrinth. He ran, trying to escape the scenery. He ran, into a few people. Their body felt too real. The scent of humidity was still there. The wind could still be heard, wood cracking outside. Yet, he still ran. He pushed one more massive heavy door, and he found himself in the yard. Or the front court. Or whatever this was meant to be. He turned around, his neck almost snapping as he threw his head backward, his eyes following the massive castle revealing before him. The harsh iron smell of blood was all around him, as he stood right were Mr Collins met his faith. A light drizzle made his skin feel like ice. 

A strident beeping noise took him out of his trance. The torches around him were flashing, blinding him from their artificial whiteness. He fell to his knees, burying his head in his arms, his body muffling his heart wrenching scream. 

  
“ _Merlin, can you hear me?_ ”

“ _Merlin_.”

“Merlin!” A hand on his shoulder startled him, making him open his eyes wide open. The beeping had stopped. The harsh flashing lights were gone. The castle stood tall. “What are you doing here my boy? This is no place to be in your current state. You should be getting some more rest. Come on, let’s get you back inside.” The old man helped him on his feet. 

“I’m fine. I’m...listen, I just got to get home alright? And I can leave you all to your lovely medieval reenactment but this isn’t really my jam. So thanks for the shelter, but I ...I’ll be on my way now. “ He clapped his hand together as he looked over his shoulder. “Right. Bye bye now.” He turned around and barely took three steps before turning again. The old man had not moved at all, however his eyebrow was raised. “Where’s Glastonbury? Actually, where are we?”

“You are in Camelot.” 

“Right? As in the legends? Sure.” Merlin scoffed, exhaustion catching up with him. 

“I do not know if Camelot’s reputation is legendary. I’d rather say infamous in Brittany. Although it is not my place to speak about our king and his actions, especially not here.” The old man shot a look around him, trying to make Merlin aware of their current very public situation. His face was unreadable, almost as if the old man was trying to piece together an abstract jigsaw puzzle in his mind. He then seized Merlin’s elbow, rushing him back inside. “Your injuries must be more serious than I had imagined.” 

“So let me get this straight :we are in Camelot. Shall I expect to see King Arthur around the corner?” He rolled his eyes and walked pass the old man, entering the only room he was familiar with. “My name is Merlin Emrys, I was born in 1978 in Caerphilly. I am a DCI for the Glastonbury county, we are in June, the 11th, and you, you are clearly mad sir.”

_“We don’t know when or if he will wake up. The bullet is still in his head and can not be surgically removed. He might already be gone. I’m sorry.’_ ’

Merlin moaned in pain, holding himself up by leaning against the table. “No! I’m here! I am right here! Help me! Do something!” He was screaming at the ceiling, his arms were spread apart, his hands clenching painfully. “Take me back!”

_“We can do nothing but wait.”_

“No, come back! I’m here! I’m alive! Can you hear me!” The pain dissipated, and for the first time, he cried. He dropped his body on the wooden bench, his legs bouncing up and down. “Come back! Please! I’m...here.”. His voice was almost inaudible, broken. 

Almost as if the old man started to understand something he could not, should not understand, he leaned against the table, crossing his arms on his chest. After a long silence, the man nodded to himself, walked across the room and placed to goblet and a pitcher of wine between them. 

“I was keeping it for a special occasion but it seems you need it more than me.” He poured them a generous amount, although Merlin was not reacting at all, as if we was lost in a breach of time where no one could reach him. “I’m Gaius, the Court Physician. Uther Pendragon is our king, not his son, Arthur. So please be careful, we don’t want you to be executed for treason and conspiracy against the throne by going around saying the young Prince is King.” Gaius drank half of his wine, his eyes trailing off Hunith’s letter still laying open on the table. “Can you tell me what you remember Merlin?”

Merlin scoffed at the comment regarding the famous and heroic King - well Prince - Arthur before becoming serious. “I was trying to reason with this man. It was a hostage situation. He...was holding Tomas at gunpoint and... I got shot. It’s almost as if I could see the bullet slowing coming my way, unable to move my feet, my ears ringing from the gunshot.” Gaius listened carefully, not asking any question, despise having more than one. “I remember being in the ambulance, the sirens ringing so loud, machines beeping everywhere. And the smell. It all smelled like iron and clean. 

“Well my boy, this is certainly one kind of a story.” Gaius raised his eyebrow and cleared his throat. “Whilst you were sleeping, I visited the lower town and gave a draw to my patient. I should go back there tomorrow morning to see if their health is restoring. In the meantime, the King is hosting a banquet and I am invited. You are more than welcome to join me, if you feel like it that is.” 

Merlin stared at the old man with suspicious eyes. “You know what bullets are, correct? You know what I am talking out yeah?”. 

“I have no clue I’m afraid. But my lack of knowledge is of not importance.” Gaius stood up and examined a candle on his working bench. “If you would like to join the banquet, you have a candle mark to get ready.” The old man grabbed his bag and nodded to the young man, before leaving the room, silently. 

“Ok Merlin. Think. What is going on?” He slapped himself and shook his head. “Come on, wake up!” Rubbing his eyes, he let out a frustrated growl. “Dreams, dreams, dreams...What do we know about dreams mmh? Books!” He clapped his hands together and rushed towards the shelf below the herbs. He snatched the first book he could see and browsed it quickly, flipping the pages as quick as he could. All the words were coherent. He read the fifth page in its entirety, browsed further before coming back to that same page. The words remained unchanged. Desperate, he threw the book over his shoulder and grabbed an other one. And an other one, In less than ten minutes, the whole bookshelf was on the floor. 

Gaius came back, random flowers in his hands. At the sight, the old man gasped slightly before giving Merlin a worried look. 

“What happened in here?” His voice was not angry, but concerned. 

“Words Gaius! Words! This...”, Merlin gestured around, his hair ruffled and his hands shaking, “...is just my subconscious. Is it a dream? An hallucination? A coma-induced bad trip? I don't know yet, but it’s not real! And there’s so many words that my mind can create in a book yeah? Details will run out! At some point, even my mind has its own limits. I just need to find... the end of this! Cause maybe, maybe, if I can prove it’s not real then I’ll wake up!” Merlin kicked one of the book, almost breaking down in tears as he shouted at the ceiling. “Do you hear that? I’m coming back!” 

Gaius rushed to the young man and sat him down. “Chew this, it will help you.” He presented him with the flowers he was still holding. “It’s a pennyroyal. It should relieve you from your pain, physical and mental I hope. Chew it slowly until it’s nothing but a tasteless paste and spit it out.” 

Reluctantly, Merlin agreed to it, grimacing at the bitter taste. 

“I think it would be beneficial for you to come with me tonight. Hopefully, the people and the music could revive some memories. What do you think?” 

The young man coughed slowly, his mouth producing enough saliva to drown him. “Oh Gaius. This is dis-gus-ting!” With a lack of elegance, Merlin emptied his stomach content on the floor, but mostly on Gaius’ boots. He sobbed painfully, his eyes red and puffed, his stomach cramping. Painfully, he managed to apologise through greeted teeth. 

He dropped to the floor not long after, covering his head with his arms. He coughed some more, wheezed and choked, his chest barely rising. 

_“Part of his automatic nervous system has shut down. Merlin needs some respiratory help. He is also unable to swallow, and we’ve switched to IV injection to feed him. I am really sorry, but your son’s situation keeps declining.”_

_“Merlin, can your hear me? You need to fight. Please Merlin. Please.”_

The room was spinning, he was spitting blood, sweating, shivering. “Mum? Get me home mum please. Plea-” Merlin broke down on the floor, a mess of limbs and flesh, everything too hard and too cold. And it all went silent again. He gasped, taking a big inhale. The sudden abundance of oxygen almost made him cackled, or was it the feeling that he had just breathed his way back to life. 

“I’m on IV?” Merlin asked himself under his breath. He looked again at the old man, determined. “I’ll go to the banquet Gaius. Cause if there is one thing I know for sure : no one but me is gonna put food in my mouth.” He ran up one he guessed was meant to be his room and grabbed the scarf he had previously discarded on the trunk. He tried to arrange his hair and with three long strides, he exited the room. “Come on Gaius, let’s not be late!” 

Gaius followed suite, not without bagging a few pain relief droughts for his new apprentice. He hoped tonight and tomorrow would go without any further incidents or he would take it upon himself to write to Hunith regarding the new mental affliction Merlin seemed to be suffering from.

Merlin walked hastily towards the hall, without thinking where to go, as if he knew where the banquet would take place. He pushed open the massive doors, and was overwhelmed by the how lively the room was. Sat at a long wooden table, two men and a woman were drinking, surrounded by an impressive amount of food. In front of them was two other long tables, equally drowned under a galore of dishes, flowers and candles. At the back, a massive tapestry was hanging from the ceiling. The red and gold let Merlin breathless, the colours vibrating within his soul, the embroidered dragon feeling like a good old friend. Standing in front of it was a beautiful woman, her big green eyes scanning the whole space, her long black hair falling on her chest, making her seem paler than she must have been. Her dress, a mix of pale blue tulle and orange silk, was contrasting drastically with the poor fabrics moving around the room, refilling glasses, faceless poor chiffon. 

One of the man from the head table stood up, clearing his throat. “We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.”

The room broke into a loud round of applause which died away as the music rose. Over his shoulder, Merlin could see that Gaius was right by his side, seemingly enjoying the entertainment. Lady Helen spread her arms, her voice reaching every corner reverberating on each stones. Each words were slow, languished, almost hypnotic. Her eyes were meeting each and every individual, before stopping by the royal table. 

“ _He’s told us not to blow it, ‘cause he knows it’s all worthwhile_.” Merlin hummed along, strangely smoothed by the familiarity. Around him, the crowd was falling asleep. “ _He told me: let the children lose it._ ” Lady Helen stepped forward and pulled out a dagger out of her sleeve. His eyelid heavy, Merlin covered up his ears, trying to make sense of what was happening, “ _Let the children lose it._ ” His eyes trailed off towards the dagger aim. A young man, hair as blond as a wheat field and a face blessed by the innocence of youth, was seating by the king’s side. “ _Let the children lose it”_. His son, Prince Arthur. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Lady Helen throwing the blade and without further thought, he jumped forward, knocking the prince of his seat. The dagger pierced through the back of the chair, splitting the wood in half. Like a wake up call, the room woke up, pulled out of their hypnosis by the screams of lady Helen. “No!”. Before she could make any movement, two guards seized her. Defeated, Lady Helen sighed, her shoulders dropping. It looked like she had aged before their eyes. She was dragged away. Merlin stared at where she stood, her defeated expression reminded her of Mr Collin’s mother. All mothers grieving share the same eyes, he thought, picturing his own mother begging him to not leave her, holding his hand. 

Slowly, he moved his fingers, trying to brush away the feeling, the ghostly touch of his moment refusing to let him go. 

“You saved my boy’s life. A debt must be repaid.” Merlin turned to the man, to the king. 

“Er...Well...” He glanced around, only to become aware of the dozens of eyes on him. 

“Don’t be so modest. You shall be rewarded.” 

“No, honestly, you don’t have to.” Gaius kicked him discreetly on the back of his leg. “Your Highness.” 

“No, absolutely. This merits something quite special. You shall be rewarded a position at the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur’s manservant.” On this declaration, the king nodded before leaving the banquet hall. Arthur tried to get his attention, but the King never turned around. 

The room clapped once more. The prince looked at Merlin from head to toe, openly judging him. Clinking his fingers, he ordered a servant to refill his glass, even though he clearly had a bit too much too drink already, like a majority of the room. One of the boy rushed to him and poured some wine, spilling some on the Prince’s hand accidentally. Arthur turned towards the servant who was profusely apologising, already looking for a cloth to clean his mistake. However, before he could even get closer to the prince, Arthur threw his drink in the servant face.. He grabbed the young boy by his tunic, pushed him against the wall and held him there. 

“This is the finest cotton blend in the kingdom and you dare spill wine on it? I’ll have you clean it with your tongue you clumsy horse-dung.” He tighten his grip, spilling his bile through greeted teeth. 

The servant mumbled inaudible words, shaking and swallowing a sob, clearly frightened and panicked. To Merlin’s shock, no one but him seemed to be shocked, if not bothered, by the scene. No one even gasped when Prince Arthur got closer to the kid, his hand dangerously closed to his belt where his dagger could be seen. “Say it louder.” 

“I’m s-s-sor-” 

“Hey come on, that’s enough.” Merlin placed his hand on the Prince’s shoulder. On any other normal day, he would have charged Arthur with common assault, but it was not any other normal day. 

“What?” Arthur turned around. To Merlin’s surprised, the blond did not seemed angry or annoyed at him, but surprised. 

“You had your fun, my friend.” Merlin slowly lowered Arthur’s arm, and the servant boy ran away with no second thought. An other servant grabbed him and pulled the boy in a tight embrace, the woman previously sat at the King’s left speaking reassuring words to him. 

“Do I know you?” It was asked almost rhetorically. A polite way to ask ‘how dare you.’

“I’m Merlin.” He did not even bothered his dislike towards the man. 

“Right. Merlin. My new manservant since about five minutes. So I don’t know you.” Arthur looked at his own shoulder where Merlin’s hand previously touched him. “Yet, you called me ‘friend’.”

“That was my mistake.” Merlin grabbed the king’s goblet which was left on the table and took a sip of the royal wine, openly challenging the Prince himself. 

“Yes, I think so.” Arthur looked at him, curious. If he was indeed outraged, he was good at hiding it. None of them realised that by then, the whole banquet hall had gone quiet, every person present in the room listening to them. 

“Yeah.” Merlin shrugged, putting the glass down again, smirking. “I’d never have a friend who could be such an ass.”. 

“Or I such an idiot.” The royal guards made their way to seize Merlin, only to be stopped by Arthur. “Stop. He might be an idiot, but he is a brave one.” He clapped Merlin on the shoulder and pointed his fingers at him become leaning closer to whisper in his ear. 

“There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t quite put my finger on it.” As quick as Arthur had leaned forwards, he backed away. “I’m expecting to see you in my chambers tomorrow at dawn. And I hope you’d have learn to leave your attitude at the door by then.” 

Arthur left the hall, and within the next five minutes, the room had emptied himself. Only a few servants could be seen hurrying around to clean the remains of the banquet. Gaius, who had stayed quiet all along, ordered Merlin with just a glare to follow him back. As soon as the door closed behind them, Gaius scolded Merlin. 

“How could you be so foolish? Insulting the prince in front of the court? You are lucky Uther was not present my boy, or it would have been your blood being washed away in the courtyard this time!” 

“Arthur needed to be taught a lesson!” Merlin shouted, although he did not mean to, and Gaius seemed to realise. 

“What is it?” 

The young man walked back to his bed chambers, sitting on the edge of his bed. He wanted to speak, he wanted to understand, he wanted someone to understand him. 

“You don’t know why I’m here, do you?”

Gaius was standing by the door, and he glanced at Hunith’s letter still on his table. “No.” He had been expecting Merlin. But why was he meant to be in Camelot? The old man had no clue. “Maybe saving the prince’s life was your destiny.” 

Merlin scoffed. Saving the life of a prat, what a destiny. It’s only after a few seconds that Merlin’s face morphed into something almost sinister, if not mad. “Gaius, say that again!” 

The old man looked taken aback but obliged. “Maybe...saving Arthur’s life is your destiny.” 

“No, no, no, no!” Merlin stood up and pushed aside Gaius to exit the chambers. He turned around to face the man, walking backward awkwardly. “You said ‘the Prince’s life’, Prince Arthur’s life! But you see, where I come from, Arthur is a king! The most legendary king there is actually!” 

“What are you saying?” 

“I figured out how to get home Gaius! If this Arthur becomes the king he is meant to be, then everything would be how it should be. And if everything is how it should be, it means I should be going back where I come from. It’s all about putting everything back to its place!” 

Merlin grabbed a brown jacket hanging behind the door and snatched a handful of berries from the bowl on the table. 

‘’It’s way past dusk Merlin! Where are you going?” 

“To kill Uther Pendragon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go.   
> As a side note, Arthur might come off as OOC in the servant scene to some of you, however, it comes from my desire to write something a bit more raw than the TV show which was meant to be family friendly. Just as in the first chapter where the blood is being washed of the pavement, here we get to see Arthur being a bully explicitly, way more than in the actual episode where is bullying is almost just "unfriendly banter" in a way... 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll see you all in the next chapter! 
> 
> ( side side note: Love is spelt BDSM is not abandoned per se, however, until I find the inspiration to carry on with it, it will be on stand by.... sorry xx)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading me! I hope you are hooked and see you all for the next chapter xX


End file.
